


Run For Your Life

by shortpromptlongkiss



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Gen, Pietro Maximoff is a Little Shit, Teenage Drama, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:26:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24405760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shortpromptlongkiss/pseuds/shortpromptlongkiss
Summary: After Tony is rejected from the School for Gifted Youngsters, Peter Maximoff offers to drive him back to New York. But what's waiting in the woods for them?
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7
Collections: Marvel Fandom Scramble 2020





	Run For Your Life

**Author's Note:**

> It's not Pietro, it's Peter, but Archive decided that it hates me.

The school was peaceful in the evenings. Peter laid out on the grass, letting the world pass him by as his new favorite song came on. It had been three years since Apocalypse and he was living life to the fullest.

Not really, he was thirty, had never had a girlfriend, and was stuck on babysitting duty half the time. At least he had his friends.

Who wouldn’t ever leave him alone while he was listening to music. Even Jean sometimes came down to poke fun at him.

Still, all of them were asleep, and he was alone on the grounds. Alone with Annie Lennox and a really good new tape. He closed his eyes, ready to take in the beautiful sound that is the Eurythmics, when...

“WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN, I’M NOT FUCKING GIFTED?”

Peter shot up, eyes flying open as he glanced up at the open window of their professor. Charles was likely dealing with something bad this morning, but Peter wasn’t about to interrupt the Professor. He knew better.

“I’m the smartest kid this side of the Atlantic! I have high honors from MIT and I’m sixteen!”

“I understand,” Charles’ voice interrupted, “but this is a different kind of gifted school. It’s for people with more unnatural talents.”

The unknown party snapped back as Peter neared the window. “I swear, I’m gonna buy out this place and then put real talent here.”

“Interesting. Well, with your father cutting you off I’m not sure how that’s going to happen.” Peter chuckled as the professor systematically destroyed the newcomer. “And your poor mother misses you so, you should spend more time at home.”

“How do you know all this about me?” The voice sounded awestruck, as people often were when they met Charles.

“Peter, come up here,” Charles said. A head poked out of the window, a kid with a red face and a pissed off expression to match. Peter waved and took off, reaching the professor’s office in seconds.

Charles waved him further in and he joined the little meeting. “This is Tony Stark, son of Howard Stark, the weapons developer that I told you about.”

“Oh, you mean the asshole that’s working double-time to build as many weapons as Apocalypse destroyed while simultaneously trying to shut down your school due to ‘unnecessary space being taken up’?” Peter nodded, not sparing Tony a second glance. ”This is his son?”

Charles nodded. “I’d like you to escort him back out, since many of the students are likely going to be angry about being woken up.”

Peter sighed, but walked over to Tony. “Don’t move.”

“And why the hell-”

Tony shut up the instant Peter grabbed his neck and took off. “Wow,” he muttered when they stopped at the gate. “That was crazy. Can everyone in there do that?” He looked back at the school, trying to catch his breath.

Peter shook his head. “Can’t say. Confidentiality of a minor and all those laws I usually ignore.”

“Then why aren’t you ignoring them now?”

“Because it benefits me.” Peter tapped his headphones. “You interrupted the goddess that is Annie Lennox, so you deserved that.”

Tony shrugged. “Fine, then. Thanks for the... Ride? No, thanks for the run out.” He turned and went back towards the driveway, where he started down the sidewalk. “Bye!”

“Do you have someone coming to pick you up?” Peter called after him.

“No, I walked!” Tony picked up a backpack that had been stashed in a bush. Tied to the bottom was a sleeping roll.

Peter’s eyes widened and he sped to catch up. “Where did you come from?”

Tony glared back at him. “New York City.”

“You walked...” Peter looked back at the school. “You walked from New York City to Weschester County? I mean, for me, that’s like ten minutes, but normally, that’s about eleven hours! Right?” He hurried after Tony as he continued walking. “Let me at least drive you!”

Tony gritted his teeth. “I don’t need your help.”

“Nah, it’s not a favor. It’s common decency.” Peter sprinted back to Charles’ garage and pulled around one of the few cars parked there. “Here, get in!”

“How did you get...” Tony relented, hopping into the shotgun seat. “Thanks.” He set his backpack down and turned to the window.

The car was silent for about the first half hour, then Peter stuck in his new Eurythmics tape. He sang along with the music, and though it was quiet, he could hear Tony joining in.

“You like the Eurythmics?” They were on a road through some trees, and the sky was dark by now, but the car seemed to light up with Tony’s smile.

“Yeah, I do. Girl power band and all that.” Tony tapped his fingers on the dash to the beat. “I like Missionary Man, makes me think of sticking it to my dad. He doesn’t think I can do anything, and I thought maybe, if I had some sort of talent, like you or that bald guy...” Peter resisted the urge to smack the kid for the jab at the professor, but he resisted since Tony was talking.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tony spotted something in the woods. “Stop!” He cut himself off and peered out the window. “Did you see that?”

“See what?” Peter asked, squinting. “I don’t see anything!”

Tony looked back out, glaring down the trees. “I could have sworn I saw someone out there.”

“Maybe I should go check.” Before Tony could protest, Peter had pulled the car over. Without further ado, he hopped out of the car and walked towards the woods. Tony sighed and opened his door, taking care to grab the keys and lock the car behind him.

“He’s gonna get himself killed,” Tony muttered. “Who am I kidding?” He followed Peter anyway, fumbling with the keys until he dropped them. “Damnit!” He crouched down, feeling for them until- there! They were under his fingers!

The keys disappeared before he could pick them up.

“What the hell?” Tony scrambled forward, but they keys were well and truly gone. “Who took them?”

“Who took what?”

Tony jumped about a mile into the air, almost screaming until he realized it was just Peter. “The keys! I dropped them and someone just grabbed them!”

Peter’s eyes narrowed. “I didn’t touch them,” he said. “You sure they’re not just on the ground?”

Tony resisted the urge to punch Peter in the face. “Yes, I’ve checked.”

“Alrighty then.” Peter started back towards the car. “I’ll go get the... What the hell?” His eyes focused behind Tony and he shivered. “What...”

Tony whirled around. About a hundred yards off, a dark figure was standing in the clearing, its face shrouded by the night. “I didn’t sign up for this shit!” Tony cursed, stumbling back towards the car. “Peter!”

Peter appeared out of nowhere and grabbed his shoulders. “Dude, you okay? I saw the thing, but it’s gone now. We really should be getting back...”

Tony shook his head. “No, that thing was a freaking demon. I think that I need to get back to New York City.”

“I can get us back to the... Holy mother of...”

Tony was spinning around before Peter could finish. The dark figure was closer now, maybe fifty yards away. “Holy shit!” Tony took a step backwards and tripped over a root. Peter’s hand came down and hauled him to his feet.

“No way. No way am I dealing with demons right now.” Peter dragged Tony back to the car and almost threw him into the shotgun seat. “We’re leaving.”

“No keys, dumbass!” Tony wailed, climbing back out of the car. He risked a glance back to the woods. The thing was on the edge of the trees, just barely concealed. “Peter!”

“Yes?”

The sound didn’t come from behind him, though. It came from where the figure was standing!

Peter tossed off the black sheet and wrapped it around himself, grinning like a fool. “Hey, Stark, there’s an extra pair of boxers in the car if you need them.” He dangled the keys out and giggled madly.

“You. Are. A. Sick. Bastard.” Tony clenched his fists, ready to knock Peter into next week.

“Sensitive subject, considering I am actually a bastard,” Peter said, strolling back up to the car, clearly in no rush. “Y’know. Dad left and everything.”

Tony went from sixty to zero in about two seconds. “I’m sorry.”

Peter opened the door and climbed into the car. “Nah, I’m joshing you. You didn’t know. Anyway! NYC’s dangerous at night, so I cannot in good conscience take you there. You’ll have to stay with us tonight.” He turned the car around and drove back to the school, gladly swapping dad stories with Tony. Tony was just about to get into a really good one about how Howard had dropped ice on his foot and asked if he wanted some ice for it when they pulled up outside the school.

Clearly impatient, Peter rushed Tony to a guest room, opening the door for him. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.” He shut the door and rushed off.

Tony flopped down and was about to just nod off when he heard a _whoosh_. “Not funny, Peter,” he said without opening his eyes.

“I am not Peter.” The voice came out of nowhere and Tony bolted upright.

“Then who-”

A blue-skinned figure popped into view in front of Tony. “Hello!”

Tony screamed and punched it in the face.

Peter was not happy about having to clean up Kurt’s blood afterwards. Still, he was happy that Tony had gotten scared not once, but twice. The kid deserved it. After all, no one interrupts Annie Lennox.


End file.
